Midnight Snack
by Frackers
Summary: Commander Shepard is craving something sweet, and food isn't the only thing on her mind. Vignettes of life on the Normandy before the suicide mission. Implied Fem!Shepard/Garrus early on, full on Shep/Garrus in later chapters.
1. A Juicy Snack

Shepard leaned against the counter, peeling an orange with a concentration that bordered on obsessive. She wanted to avoid the sticky messiness of puncturing the flesh of the fruit from peeling too quickly. At the same time, however, she wanted to eat it before she lost interest and decided it was too much work for a quick midnight snack.

She was so engrossed in this activity that she didn't even hear the faint _swoosh_ of the kitchen's doors opening and letting in Garrus. Watching bemusedly, the turian stood as still as possible, willing his breath to quiet so that he could watch his Commander without interrupting her. She wore only her sleeping clothes, a beat-up tank top and baggy grey pajama bottoms. Her feet were bare, and for once her old gang tattoos were visible; three circles formed by snakes biting their own tails.

Meanwhile, Shepard finally managed to peel off the last of the skin, and whispered a quick victory whoop under her breath. Tossing away the orange peel with a victorious flourish, she plucked away a wedge of the orange and gobbled it up, uttering a small moan of pleasure and contentment.

Garrus coughed lightly, alerting Shepard to his presence. She flinched, nearly dropping her orange in her surprise.

"Dear God! Garrus, you nearly scared me out of my skin!" Shepard laughed, placing a hand over her racing heart.

"I guess we know where all the oranges have been disappearing to now," Garrus teased, pointing to the stolen fruit in Shepard's palm. She shuffled from foot to foot uneasily, but was smiling all the same.

"I'm sure Gardner would be pleased to know where all of his oranges have gone." Garrus chuckled, his mandibles clicking quietly. Shepard cocked her hip, and raised one eyebrow. Garrus felt a faint fluttering in his chest; Shepard's feminine curves were much more obvious when she wasn't wearing combat armor.

"Well that's too bad, because he's not going to know, now is he?" She plucked away another slice of the orange and offered it to Garrus. He accepted the stolen fruit with relish and nibbled at it.

"I guess he doesn't have to know. We can always say one of the crew tossed them because they smelled bad, or something." Garrus replied.

"Besides, it's not like he was doing anything worthwhile with them. Just tossing them into his god-awful cooking, that's all. This is almost a mercy for the poor oranges." Shepard laughed, setting the fruit down on the counter and licking the orange juice off her fingers.

"When you say it that way, I guess it is." Garrus agreed, finishing off his slice and reaching for another. Between himself and Shepard, the fruit never had a chance. Licking the last vestiges of the orange from her fingers, Shepard smiled in a satisfied way, and leaned a little closer to Garrus. Her short-cut hair fell around her face in a messy, but highly attractive way, which Garrus noticed for the first time.

"So, what were you coming to the kitchen for?" She asked.

"Er – same as you, I guess," Garrus replied embarrassedly, rubbing the back of his head. "I've been telling Gardner that I'm fasting, as part of a turian ritual before suicidal missions. Then I sneak in and just eat some of the leftover ingredients, or whatever I can find. Honestly, it is really easy to steal food from the man. He never checks inventory."

Shepard lauged, then covered her mouth to muffle the noise. The Commander was known for her loud, distinctive laugh. Garrus grinned, in spite of himself.

"Well, now that my stomach's no longer complaining, I ought to head back to my rooms." Shepard said, heading towards the door. Garrus watched her leave with a feeling of regret, like he should have said something more to her.

"Goodnight Commander." He managed, just as she reached the door. Shepard looked back at him, one of her wide, wolfish smiles in place. It hadn't escaped her notice that Garrus wore little more than a pair of well-worn sweatpants, a turian design that stopped at his knees, but left his chest bare. She took a moment to admire the amazing physiology of her turian squad member; he was strong and lean, with a well-defined waist that was common in turians. All in all, he was a very attractive turian, with a magnetic and gregarious attitude to go with it.

"We've reached that point that I think you can call me by my name, Garrus. Sleep well." She left, her footsteps faint and shadowy, like a sound that Garrus was imagining.

"Sweet dreams…Shepard."


	2. Drinks with Friends

2

The night was young, and Kasumi insisted upon dragging the squad out of the Normandy for an outing on Omega. Miranda refused outright, stating that she'd rather "drink a cup of piss and then gargle on a razor blade" (even Jacob was surprised by her creativeness with_ that _particular visual), and Mordin ,Tali and Samara decided not to go as well, preferring a quiet night on the Normandy.

And so Kasumi lead her reluctant flock to the Afterlife bar, where Zaeed, Grunt and Jack proceeded to begin a multitude of drinking games, and Kasumi and Jacob went off to the dance floor by themselves, leaving Shepard, Garrus and Thane to observe the goings-on of other patron and act as referees for the drinking games, which grew more and more violent and bawdy as the night wore on.

But all the same, Shepard was enjoying herself immensely; suicide mission tended to put a downer on everyone, and these little blips of time where she could see her squad happy and enjoying themselves made her feel more at ease about the mission. Thane and Garrus were comparing kills, occasionally asking Shepard for her input; they both knew Shepard was more of a shotgun woman herself, but she did use sniper rifles enough to have a rudimentary knowledge and strong opinion about them.

"It doesn't really matter what weapon I use, just so long as I have my scope." Thane was saying, sipping at a bright green liquor that smelled strongly of peppermints and freshly-mown grass.

"Really? I can't imagine using anything other than my M-97 Viper." Garrus replied, nursing his own strange libation that was a muted violet, but reeked like an overripe plum. Shepard had tried a sip and thought it similar to the cheap, boxed wine back on earth, but with a more overt aftertaste. She would stick to her whiskey, thank you very much.

"Ah, that is where I am torn. The Viper is a very good weapon. Powerful, but the control on it is very good, and the kickback is not nearly as bad as the Widow. But to be perfectly honest, when given the chance, I will always try and do a close-quarters kill. It seems only fair that the one you are killing should be allowed to see your face."

"That's one of the big differences between us. You like personalizing with the victim. I'm more of a distance-kind of guy. It makes an impact no matter what you do, but I'd prefer to snipe them than break their necks myself. Then again, depends on the enemy too." Garrus said thoughtfully, drinking deeply from his glass.

"What about you Shepard? Which do you prefer, close quarters or distance?" Thane asked politely, finishing off his own glass. Shepard licked her lips, and thought for a moment.

"I kind of bounce back between the two. When I'm dealing with organic enemies, I'm all for close quarters, because I can throw some melee in there while I'm dealing with them. Synthetics, on the other hand, don't have all of those nasty little nerves to abuse, and they can keep coming at you even if you land a shot or two in a vital area. So with those I like to keep away, and snipe them."

"A good compromise. But not all of us are as adept with every weapon like you are, Commander." Garrus replied, draining the last of drink and placing the glass back on the table.

"It's all very situational with me. Nothing's a constant. I like to be unpredictable, keep 'em guessing." Shepard replied, smiling in that predatory way of hers and downing the rest of her drink in one gulp. The whiskey burned as it went down, but left a lingering, spreading warmth that made her chest feel like it was filled with sunlight.

"I can see the logic in that. Very astute, Commander." Thane smiled, standing up and taking the empty glasses with him back to the bar, leaving Shepard and Garrus alone.

"So, you prefer to keep people unaware, Commander?" Garrus began, but Shepard held up her hand and smiled.

"Hold it, hold it. What's this 'Commander' business? I thought we were past that?" Garrus shifted uncomfortably under Shepard's intense gaze.

"Alright, alright. It just feels strange, that's all. I feel like it's too informal for someone like you."

"Someone like me?" Shepard repeated, arching one eyebrow as she kept her gaze on Garrus.

"You know…I just admire you a lot. You really introduced me to my own potential back when we were hunting down Saren. Since then, I've really just…I don't know how to describe it really. I look up to you, but it's something much deeper than that. You know I'm not good at these touchy-feely things, Shepard." Garrus replied, itching at one of his mandibles with what appeared to be the turian equivalent of embarrassment, and trying to hide one's face. Shepard smiled.

"It really honors me to hear that, Garrus. I admire you a lot too. Probably more than you know." Shepard replied, taking one of Garrus' hands in hers. She held his hand for a moment, but before she or Garrus could say anymore, they heard a shrill scream of victory from the table next to theirs. Jack stood atop the table, swinging a large, empty bottle around. Grunt and Zaeed had their heads on the table, completely sloshed and looking ready to melt into a nasty little puddle of sick.

"Who drank you boys under th' table? Me! Tha's right, me, a lil' girl you weak fuckers…!" Jack slurred, losing balance and nearly falling off the table. Zaeed groaned miserably, hiding his face, and Grunt gave a low growl that sounded more like a gargle.

And like that, the bubble that had separated Shepard and Garrus from the others popped, leaving them both back to reality, which was something neither of them desired right then. Shepard stood up, shaking her head and holding back laughter. "We ought to escort the party animals back to the Normandy. I'll round up the others."

Shepard walked away slowly, highly aware of the feeling of Garrus' eyes on her back.

Garrus looked over at the table of his inebriated squad mates. He shook his head, chuckling as he tried to get them all to their feet.

Shepard was unpredictable alright, he thought. Unpredictable in all kinds of ways. Garrus felt a tingling go up his spine as he remembered her touch. He was convinced it was more than friendly contact after a drink; he'd need to become more unpredictable himself. Maybe a surprise was just what Shepard was asking for.


	3. Insomniacs

A/N: I want to thank the user Trojan Prince for reviewing this story. I was feeling a bit iffy about continuing it, but your review has renewed my resolve. Thank you so much! Also, to all readers, I promise that the rest of this story won't be as dark (or short!) as this particular chapter. It'll be more light-hearted and fun as we go on, you'll see!

It was as they were traveling to Illium for fresh supplies that Garrus first realized that Shepard didn't sleep. The first few run-ins they had he thought to be coincidental; she was on her way to the bathroom, or to get a snack, or retrieve something she'd forgotten. It wasn't until he'd finally gotten a lead on Sidonis and been unable to sleep in his frustration that he realized he wasn't the only one on the ship that was unable to cast off into the sea of sleep.

Shepard would wander the ship aimlessly, peeking in on the machinery and fiddling with the guns in the armory. Sometimes, she'd even set elaborate traps and pranks for various crew members. Garrus had walked in on her re-wiring Joker's interface to have several hanar porn sites to pop up anytime he pulled up the extranet.

But it wasn't until the fourth or fifth night of running into Shepard at night that she finally asked him why he was so active.

"I'm tracking Sidonis," he replied casually. "One of my birdies finally got back to me on his whereabouts. I'm trying to track his progress, figure out where he's off to next. As soon as I know his next move…I'm going to pounce." Garrus gave a low growl when he finished. Oh, the things he would do to the turian that killed his men…!

Shepard nodded, crossing her arms. "As soon as you know, tell me. I'll have Joker get us there. I won't let him slip away, Garrus."

Garrus thanked her, and then, remembering his manners, asked, "And why are you roaming the ship, Shepard? Trouble sleeping?"

Shepard rubbed one of her temples. "You could say that."

"Is it anything I can help with? Scary monsters under the bed, maybe? It is a Cerberus ship, after all."

Shepard laughed. "No, no monsters under the bed, or in my closet. Just in my head."

"Nightmares?" Garrus asked, stepping a little closer to the Commander.

"Kind of. Except…it's more like I'm remembering what it was like before Miranda and the Lazarus project brought me back. I remember everything up until my death. Then I came back. But now, every time I close my eyes, it's like I start feeling like…like I can't open them, and I can't breathe. I can't feel anything. I'm just this barely conscious thing in the middle of all this darkness. But…I can hear things. Whispers." Shepard's voice got gradually lower and quieter. It was obvious that whatever she heard from the whispers, it had her terrified.

"You mean…you're remembering what it was like to be dead?" Garrus asked tentatively. His mouth felt uncomfortably dry.

Shepard nodded, but then also shrugged. "I'm not sure. Maybe it's just weird subconscious stress. I mean, I've had trouble sleeping since I was a kid back on Earth. Maybe it's just getting worse as I get older."

Garrus shifted a little closer to Shepard, unsure of what to do. Shepard was prickly, and didn't like being comforted; which was just as well, because Garrus was horrid at comforting females anyway. Half a life spent in the military could do that to you. He laid a claw on her shoulder, squeezing it slightly; his mother used to do that when he was upset.

Shepard put her hand over his and squeezed back, smiling faintly. They were close enough that Garrus could smell Shepard's scent, a cloying aroma of mint shampoo and clean linen. He felt his heart begin to race, and the smell enveloped him like a blanket wrapping him and Shepard closer together.

Shepard wrapped her arm around Garrus, and gave a tight, reassuring hug. "Thanks for the comfort, Garrus." She whispered into his shoulder.

Garrus took a free hand and stroked Shepard's short hair, continuing along her spine.

"You know I'll always be there when you need me, Shepard."


	4. Collecting

A/N: Thank you for all the positive support for this story! I really appreciate it a lot. But, if I could possibly ask you guys a favor…? Reviews let me know what you like/dislike, and where I should go, if the pacing is just right or too slow, and all kinds of other things. In other words…reviews are shiny and pretty and I love getting them so I know what to give you guys. So if you could possibly jot a few things you like/dislike, what you're looking forward to, etc., it would really help me out. Thanks so much you guys! You're all wonderful!

For some reason or another, the Commander began collecting various pieces of junk. None of the crew understood why she was digging in the trashes, pulling out empty bottles and random bits of machinery with an enthusiasm that bordered on obsession. She hoarded all the collected bits in a large box in her quarters.

Kelly surmised that it was a manifestation of her fear of the Collectors. "She's copying that which she fears, by symbolically collecting items and keeping them with her. She's acting out her own insecurities in being unable to save the colonists on Horizon." She told Thane, when he had asked about Shepard's behavior on behalf of the team. Garrus and Tali had tagged along, not wanting to wait for the answer.

"I think you're putting too much thought into it, Miss Chambers." Tali replied, leaning on Garrus. "Shepard isn't particularly complex."

Garrus had to agree. Shepard wasn't the type to be hiding her feelings. Her open door policy worked both ways; he'd seen her seeking counsel and advice from Samara quite often, and had even walked in on a session with her and Kasumi. Shepard didn't let her emotions get in the way of a mission, but she didn't bottle them up either.

"Perhaps she's doing an independent study? You know how she gets when she finds something even the tiniest bit interesting." Garrus suggested, running his claw along the cybernetics covering half his face. When he'd first got it, Shepard had insisted on looking up how it worked, what components made it, and all sorts of other details. It had been trying, letting the Commander prod and poke at his face for hours on end, but he'd let her do it.

"Maybe…" Tali tapped her "chin", or where her chin would be if she wasn't wearing her mask. Kelly cocked her head slightly.

"I had no idea the Commander was interested in that sort of thing. She always seems so wrapped up in the mission, sometimes I forget she's probably got hobbies and interests too." Kelly replied.

"It's tough to imagine Shepard doing anything not including a shotgun. She's very mysterious in that way." Thane said, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Shepard's an interesting cookie." Tali replied, chuckling. "Garrus, remember that time she dragged us to go see that elcor adaptation of 'Hamlet'? It was nearly 6 hours long, but Shepard made us stay for the whole thing!"

"Ugh, I remember that. I was so glad Shepard didn't shoot me when she caught me sleeping during act three. Instead she just told me to not snore so loudly, I was distracting her." He laughed, remembering the mock-anger on Shepard's face.

"Theatre? Our Commander? I had no idea. What else does she enjoy? Maybe I can understand her a little better that way." Kelly closed her terminal, and began walking back with the others.

"She and I have had long discussions about philosophy and religion," Thane began, crossing his hands behind him and walking with the others back to the mess, where the rest of the squad was waiting.

Garrus perked up. "She used to talk to Gunnery Chief Williams about religion too. But that was before she…"

"Passed." Tali finished. She'd never liked Ashley or her blatant anti-alien attitude, but could respect her friendship with the Commander.

"Is the Commander religious?" Kelly asked.

"I do not think so. Shepard doesn't seem to take solace in spirituality. I believe she just enjoys learning about different beliefs." Thane replied, looking over to Tali and Garrus for an affirmation. Both nodded; as far as they knew, Shepard was about as religious as a rock.

The group continued to discuss possible interests until they reached the mess, when the group returned to their original discussion: Shepard's strange behavior and collecting. Kelly informed the group of her theory, but not many felt inclined to believe it. The discussion as to what Shepard was collecting for continued on until dinner, when the subject of interest herself came in for food.

"Shepard." Grunt nodded in her direction as he left with his plate; she returned the nod, and entered the line-up for food. Once there, she filled her plate and sat with her squad at one of the large tables in the mess.

"So, how was everyone's day?" Kasumi asked, looking around the table as she pushed her finished bowl of spaghetti away.

"Long. Stressful. Irritating. Nothing out of the normal." Miranda replied, daintily nibbling away at her salad. Jack snorted at the other end of the table.

"The good ol' Illusive Man putting you through your paces, Cheerleader?" She said through a mouthful of spaghetti and garlic bread. Miranda smirked.

"It's been a real field day trying to convince him that your messy destruction of a Cerberus base was justified, if you must know." She took a deep gulp of her iced tea. Jack snorted again, returning to her food. Shepard had a strict no-fighting rule at the dinner table.

"Anybody else want to talk about their day?" Kasumi tried to get the conversation rolling again. Mordin began describing his investigation in finding the source of the scale itch infection, but that story was quickly quashed by Samara.

"Why don't we speak of other topics? Perhaps we could all talk about something that interests us all?"

"The only thing that all of us are interested in are the Reapers, and I don't feel like talking about them. I'm actually in a good mood, and don't want to ruin it." Jacob laughed, which lightened the mood considerably. A discussion regarding nice vacation spots arose; Thane described his home planet, a desert planet that had rolling dunes of sand, and a clear blue sky that reached across like a blanket in the sky; Tali reminisced about a large, tropical she and her people had considered for a home world, until they discovered a rather violent apex predator that dominated the territory. Even Zaeed began talking of a planet he'd worked on, describing the native people with a strange gleam in his eye.

"The women were the best though. Very beautiful, very fiery too, if you know what I mean – "

"I'm sure we all know what you mean." Garrus laughed, picking up his bowl and returning it to the kitchen to be washed. He was about to throw away the bottle that he'd emptied from dinner, when he remembered Shepard's collecting. He placed the bottle in front of her. She looked up, confused.

"Uh – I noticed that you were collecting empty bottles and things from around the ship. So I thought I might give you mine," he said nervously, hoping he hadn't offended her by mentioning it. She hadn't been exactly secretive about it, but he didn't want to embarrass her if she had been trying to keep it under wraps.

"Oh!" Shepard's eyes brightened immediately, and she smiled. "Yeah, I've been collecting junk for target practice. I thought we all could go out on some planet and just shoot at stuff for awhile. I think I have enough, but one more won't hurt!" Shepard picked up the bottle, and bumped Garrus' shoulder with hers. "Thanks Garrus."

"No problem. So that's what you were collecting for? So we could all go out shooting?"

"Yeah. I thought we could maybe test out different squad rotations. You know, grouping and stuff like that. We may be going on a suicide mission, but I plan on doing my best to keep everyone alive." Shepard replied, tossing her plate into the washer and walking towards the elevator.

"I see. You're really thinking a lot about that, aren't you?" Garrus said, following her, but stopping at the elevator.

"Yeah. I like these people. I want them to live to be remembered as heroes one day, when all this Reaper business is over. If anyone has to die, I want it to be me. I should be in the dirt anyway, by now." Shepard laughed, but it sounded a little hollow. Garrus stepped into the elevator, and clicked the doors shut. He took a hold of Shepard's arms, and pulled her to him. Shepard's false laugh died in her throat with surprise.

Garrus wasn't accustomed to hugging, but he did the best he could. "Please don't say that, Shepard. I lost you once; I don't want to do it again."

Shepard returned the hug, and whispered, "I won't leave you. Any of you. That's a promise." She pulled away, and looked up at Garrus.

"I'm…probably not going to be able to sleep again, tonight. I know you're all strung up about Sidonis. Care to join me in my quarters…? We could talk, and I have some booze." Shepard asked quietly.

Garrus nodded, pressing on the elevator's button to Shepard's quarters.


	5. No Mistakes

"Nice place, Shepard." Garrus commented, taking in the posh interior of Shepard's room. He'd seen her accommodations on the first Normandy; these rooms blew that one out of the water. The luminescent fish tanks and light ambient music were nice touches, and the private bathroom was large and clean. Shepard had even personalized her small office; a small model of the Normandy was on the desk, along with several picture frames and a slightly wilting plant. Up on one of the higher shelves was a clear glass cage that held a small hamster.

Upon closer inspection, he saw that the pictures were those of her and her old squad, back on Torfan, as well as a few snapshots of Kaidan, Ashley, Joker, Wrex, Liara and Tali. He had a picture near her computer, a shot she had taken shortly after recruiting him in the Flux of her and him clinking together two glass that held a disgusting hanar liquor Kaidan had dared them to drink. They'd won the bet, but lost their lunches afterward.

Shepard stretched out on her couch, yawning as she did so and reaching for the handle on a small cabinet next to the bed. Inside were several bottles of liquor. "My secret stash," she chuckled, pulling out a bottle of Asari wine. She began to pour it into two small glasses, watching as Garrus explored the room.

"It's not chilled, I'm afraid. Miranda turned down my request for a mini-fridge." Shepard smirked, and took a sip from her glass. Garrus sat down beside her and took his glass as well. He sipped at the wine: tart, but with a deep, dark richness that only the Asari seemed able to distill into their liquor.

"So, other than plotting all the different ways you're going to kill Sidonis, what have you been up to?" Shepard asked, twirling the glass in her hand.

"Calibrating the guns, researching new weaponry upgrades, normal duties, I suppose." Garrus replied airily. The wine was stronger than he had anticipated. Even Shepard, the only woman to ever be able to drink him under the table, had the color rising in her cheeks after only a few sips.

"What new upgrades did you find?" Shepard asked. She'd been on the prowl for more protection for the ship. The Collectors already got one Normandy; they wouldn't be taking another.

"Nothing we don't already have." Garrus smiled, lifting his glass in a small toast and taking another drink. He was beginning to feel a warm tickle at the back of his head. Shepard leaned her head back and sighed heavily.

"That's a relief. At least I don't have to worry about gun power." Shepard drained her glass, and set it on the table. She stood up, and went over to her closet. "Garrus, close your eyes, I'm changing."

Garrus felt a hot jolt go through his body as he set his glass down and closed his eyes. He was within walking distance of the Commander as she was undressing. Did it mean something that she didn't ask him to leave the room, or go to the bathroom so she could change? Or was it just the wine? His brain felt so fuzzy and muddled, he didn't know what sounded more likely. He heard the sound of her clothes hitting the floor; she was probably in her underwear. Male curiosity got the best of him, and he opened his eyes to small slits.

The image he got was blurred from the limited sight and the wine, but he was able to make out Shepard's well-defined shoulder muscles, and her arching back. He continued along her form, noting the smooth contours of her legs, the firm, flat tummy, and admired the litheness of her limbs and their graceful movements. Shepard was wearing a light green sports bra and boy-shorts (no surprise there) but as Garrus grew more bold in his examination of her, his eyes opened a little wider so he could make out the puckered bullet scars on her shoulders and legs, as well as her old gang tattoo (and a few others he hadn't been aware of) and smooth scars from a varren crisscrossing her back.

"Get a good look?" Shepard asked. Garrus felt the blood rush to his face and he snapped his eyes shut, looking away from where Shepard was.

"I'm so sorry Shepard! I wasn't thinking – the wine, and I just – "Garrus spluttered, covering his face. He felt Shepard's hands on his arms, pulling them away from his face.

"Shhh. It's okay Garrus. Open your eyes." Garrus' eyes opened tentatively, and when he saw that Shepard still had only her underclothes on, he shut them again.

"Shepard – "

"Shh. If I didn't want you to look, I would have asked you to leave." Her voice was low, and her hands moved down slowly along his arms until her hands were on his. Garrus opened his eyes again, and took a deep breath. Shepard went to her knees between his legs, and rested his and her hands on his thighs.

"I don't know if it's the wine, or if it's the weeks of sleep deprivation, but your eyes are looking a lot more beautiful than they usually do, Garrus." Shepard purred, stroking Garrus' talons with her long, smooth fingers.

"My eyes…?" Garrus mumbled, trying but failing at speaking coherently while looking at Shepard. His eyes drank in the beautiful curves of her shoulders and neck, the soft skin that formed the swell of her breasts; turian women didn't have breasts, didn't need them, and on any other human or asari they seemed ridiculous and superfluous. But on Shepard, they were so…

"You're allowed to touch, Garrus. You don't have to just sit there in awe, as gratifying as it is." Shepard chuckled, coming a little closer to him. Garrus felt prickles all along the insides of his thighs. Shepard guided Garrus' claw to her abdomen, trailing it along her smooth, firm stomach, up to the bottom strap of her bra, where one of his claws caught on the material and ripped it a little.

Garrus pulled his hand back in surprise, but Shepard smiled. "Those claws are more useful than I originally thought," she said quietly, taking her own hand and stroking along Garrus' chest, up to the area where his skin was bare and not protected by the armored plates that covered his body. When her fingers grazed the sensitive area, he gave an involuntary growl of pleasure. This seemed to goad Shepard on, leading her to begin to trace small circles around his throat, making Garrus nearly melt.

Not knowing what to do with his hands, he began to run them along Shepard's spine, careful of the fabric of her bra. She gave a small breath, and came ever closer to Garrus. By now, her abdomen was touching the front of his pants. Garrus placed his forehead to hers; Shepard laid several small, feathery kisses along his mandible and cheeks. Turians didn't have lips, and didn't kiss to show affection. They would place their foreheads together, to indicate a mental and spiritual bond. He did this in place of kisses, hoping that Shepard would understand.

She seemed to. That or she was too busy exploring the rest of his body to notice or care. Shepard had moved along his throat, kissing and stroking.

"Shepard," Garrus growled, pulling her away.

"Do you not like it?" She asked, looking at him.

Garrus shook his head. "No. In fact, I love it, but…Shepard. You're drunk. I don't think you understand who you're kissing right now."

Shepard pulled her hands away from him, and cocked one eyebrow. "I was pretty damn sure I was lavishing the turian rebel, Garrus Vakarian. Am I mistaken?"

"No, but – "

"No buts. Garrus, I'm not so drunk that I don't know or care about what I'm doing. I'm with you, one of the only people I trust implicitly on this ship. And I'm doing something that I've wanted to do since I met you." Shepard stroked his mandible, her fingers grazing his scars.

"Shepard…" Garrus purred, bringing his hand to hers.

"This isn't a drunken mistake. It's what I want. And if I'm correct, it's what you want too." Shepard whispered, laying her head on Garrus' shoulder.

"Everything I could have wanted and more." Garrus replied, wrapping his arms around Shepard.


	6. Morning After

A/N: Hey guys. Sorry for such a long wait on the chapter, I just recently got out of the hospital from a big surgery, and I wasn't allowed to have my computer in the hospital. Can you imagine it? Almost more than a month without a computer? Gosh, it horrid, my friends. But I am back in the saddle again! I promise to keep writing, and I appreciate your patience. Thank you!

Shepard awoke the next morning with a splitting headache. She lay on her bed with Garrus' arm around her waist, and his head just below her bared breasts. He was still asleep. She stretched, trying not to disturb Garrus. Yawning, she tried to remember how far they went; they had eventually finished the bottle of asari wine, growing bolder with one another as they downed more and more of the liquor.

Eventually it had escalated until both of them were naked. Shepard remembered a bit of a wrestling match on her bed; both of them had wanted to be on top. But in the end, she and him had been so tired and drunk that they had just lain in one another's arms and talked until they fell asleep. Shepard smiled, stroking along Garrus' arm.

She unlatched herself from his hold, and went to her personal bathroom, turning on the shower and stepping under the spray of warm water. Even as a green recruit, back when she first joined the Alliance, Shepard had loved showers. It was a time for her to be alone, to reflect and think on whatever she wanted to, and zone out as much as she liked. She scrubbed herself with her body wash absentmindedly, recalling more and more of last night. She traced a finger along a scratch stretching up along her thigh.

Garrus had accidently nicked her while running his hands up and down her form. She remembered his panic at the sight of blood, his apologies and flustered demeanor. She had to assure him repeatedly that she was tough, that the medigel would take care of it; except that she didn't want the medigel. She wanted the scratch to heal on its own. She wanted the scar, to remember, to touch when she was alone.

When she was finished in the shower, she came out to see Garrus reclining on her small couch, his clothes put back on, and his eyes only a little bleary from the wine. She went over to her wardrobe, pulling out a pair of pants and shirt. She dressed quietly, and then joined Garrus on the couch, placing a hand on his chest and a kiss on his mandible.

"So...um...was it good for you?" Garrus chuckled quietly, taking Shepard's hand in his own. Shepard smiled widely, and leaned on the turian.

"Aside from your adorable hesitancy at the beginning...yes. And you?"

"I honestly don't think I've been this happy in a long, long time."

Shepard stood up and stretched. "Well, I don't know about you, but that wine made me absolutely ravenous. Shall we go to the mess?"

Garrus got up, and put a hand over his own stomach. "Do you want me to leave first?"

"What? Can we not fit in the elevator together?"

"No, it's just...I mean, I don't think anyone saw us come up here together, so I was thinking I could leave before you and then no one would suspect -" Shepard cut Garrus off with a small chuckle.

"Garrus, why wouldn't we want people to see us? This isn't an Alliance operation, and you aren't a sub-ordinate. We went to my quarters together as equals, and we'll leave the same way. I don't give a damn what anyone says about us. If they don't like it, they can ignore it until we hit another planet and they can leave."

"But -"

"We have nothing to hide, Garrus. You don't think the others are sneaking around too?"

"Of course I know about the others. I've seen Jacob going off to Kasumi's room; it's not just to get a drink from the bar." Garrus replied. Shepard placed her hand on his cheek, and kissed him.

"Unless you really want it, I'd rather not sneak around and try to hide what's going on here. I...love you, Garrus. I really do. And I don't want to hide what I love."


End file.
